


Jesus take the wheel

by emocezi



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 10:08:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13144419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emocezi/pseuds/emocezi
Summary: To tell the truth, Savage hadn't spent much time thinking about Obi-Wan, or the promise they'd made so long ago, except for once a year when he dutifully marked down Obi-Wan's birthday on a calendar.Savage turned 30 three months ago.Obi-Wan turned 30 three hours ago.And as of the last five minutes, Obi-wan has been sitting in his living room, shivering and drenched from the rain he'd walked here in, after his car had straight up and died a mile down the road from where Savage lived.  Alone.





	Jesus take the wheel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SunsetOfDoom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunsetOfDoom/gifts).



> This was created from a prompt I discovered. A/B/O dynamics and a promise that our beautiful dumb babies would marry each other if they hadn't found anyone by the age of 30 so they could have someone to settle down with.
> 
> This thing is as full of purple prose and cliche's as I could pack into it so I really hope you enjoy it. Sorry for the cliffhanger but the porn goblins were refusing to cooperate with me so I'm really hoping to beat them into submission so I have a part two up pretty quick.
> 
> :)

It's been fifteen years since the promise was made. 

Savage hasn't forgotten. He never found an Omega of his own, never found his other half. He doesn't know about Obi-Wan, who moved away half a lifetime ago and fell out of touch. But he remembers, remembers the way the light bounced off that shining copper hair, those blue blue eyes that he'd always felt like he could drown in if he looked too long.

Obi-Wan had been beautiful and Savage remembers whispering an offer, two young friends yet to mature who'd seen that sometimes there just wasn't someone for everyone and wanted, desperately to assure themselves, so impossibly young, that even if there isn't someone for everyone, that life can still go on. That even if destiny doesn't choose you, you can still choose for yourself.

It was a year later that Obi-Wan's family had moved, and they lost touch over the years, as sometimes happens. To tell the truth, Savage hadn't spent much time thinking about Obi-Wan, or the promise they'd made so long ago, except for once a year when he dutifully marked down Obi-Wan's birthday on a calendar. 

Savage turned 30 three months ago.

Obi-Wan turned 30 three hours ago. 

And as of the last five minutes, Obi-wan has been sitting in his living room, shivering and drenched from the rain he'd walked here in, after his car had straight up and died a mile down the road from where Savage lived. Alone. 

From what he'd heard, Obi-Wan had been driving to his younger brothers house for the semi-annual Kenobi gathering when his car had broken down. He'd seen Savage's lights through the trees and decided to go for help. And now, 15 years later after a juvenile promise, Obi-Wan is sitting on his couch, three hours after he'd turned 30. Savage hasn't much believed in fate recently, but how tonight goes has the potential to change his mind.

He grabs a couple of towels and a sweatshirt that's going to drape on Obi-Wan like a wide-necked shirt and heads back out to the living room, dropping off supplies and moving for the kitchen so he can make coffee and keep himself busy. A wet Omega on ones couch was tempting to even the most chemical altered Alpha.

"Thank you for this." Obi-Wan calls and Savage sneaks a look at the man pulling off his soaked, and clinging to his skin shirt as he's scooping grinds.

"Don't worry about it." Savage offers in reply, his voice a touch gruffer than he means for it to be. 

"Yes, well. All the same, thank you." Obi-Wan's voice drips from warm to a clipped politeness. 

"Sorry." Savage clears his throat and flexes his hands, feeling little sparks of eager energy crackling through them. "I don't get many visitors out this way." Oh great, way to sound like a movie villain. Savage takes two mugs down from the cupboard and pours steaming hot coffee into the two. "How do you take yours?" He holds up a mug in a gesture, sipping from his own in an attempt to get the scent of tantalizing **wet** Omega out of his nose even if just for a moment.

"Black is fine." Obi-wan says and starts to gingerly wring the shirt out onto one of the towels. Savage takes a scalding gulp of coffee to punish himself back into clarity at the fucking sight of Obi-Wan and his freckled shoulders and marches over. He sets Obi-Wan's coffee down and takes the shirt with a grunt, going to wring it out in the sink so it will dry faster. "Uh. Thank you." Obi-Wan calls tentatively and Fuck this was a MISTAKE because now Savage HAS Obi-Wan's scent right there in his hands.

All damp and wet and eager for him, god he could just bury his face in this and jerk off to the best three orgasms of his life in the next ten minutes. EASILY. He is in so much trouble. THEY are in so much trouble.

(HAHAHAHAHAHAHA THE BEST MOTHERFUCKING CLICHEEEEEEEEE YOU BITCHES LOVE MEEEEEEE)

Because right here, with this fucking shirt in his hands, that smells like Obi-Wan. Also smells like an off-cycle heat. They're rare, Omega's only go into heat twice a year, sometimes only once. But every now and again, special circumstances(hurr hurr hurr) can bring on a heat outside of a usual cycle.

Savage drops the shirt in the sink, carefully washes his hands, and grabs one of his kitchen towels, wetting it down and holding it under his nose. "Hey." He clears his throat twice and Obi-Wan looks up at him. "You're off cycle."

The poor man's face flares red and he bunches the dry towel up between his wet jeans, as if was going to somehow stop biology from happening. "I am SO. so sorry." He sounds embarrassed, mortified, as if going into an off cycle heat in front of Savage was the worst thing that's ever happened to him. And Savage can't have that, he can't.

He moves closer, keeping his movements slow and steady, keeping his hands where Obi-Wan can see them. "I can help."

"You can- No. NO thank you. I'm going to go back to my car and wait it out there." His cheeks are nearly as red as his beard and his ears are nearly glowing. "I don't need to take...to take..." He's spluttering, unable to find the words to fit the ball of embarrassment and fucking shame he's feeling at being offered a _knot_ to sit by some stranger like he gets into these complications all the time. 

"Obi-wan." That's his name. That's _his_ name. Obi-Wan's eyes go wide and he stares up at the mountain of yellow and black Zabrak. "I can help."

"Savage?" Obi-Wan squeaks it and then bolts up off the couch as memories of teenagerhood flood back. The promise floods back and Obi-Wan very suddenly _can't breathe_ because he was _just_ thinking about Savage and how much he wished they could have talked about things and maybe gone out for a few drinks. "How the hell are you here?" He takes a breath to center himself and sees now that Savage has his nose and mouth covered, keeping himself from getting rut-high on Obi-Wan's first heat stage scent.

"I think that's my line." Suddenly his voice isn't gruff and uninviting to Obi-Wan's ears, it's the tension of holding yourself steady and under control even though you want to snap and tear off your wet jeans and beg him to ravish you until you can't feel your legs. Savage takes a slow, shallow breath and waits until Obi-Wan has finished running his eyes over every inch of Savage like he wished his hands and mouth could have followed and he's looking back up into Savage's red and yellow eyes. "I'll ask you this once." Those eyes burn into Obi-Wan's and he waits for Savage's question. "Do you want to go back to your car?"

Obi-Wan's breath feels like it's caught in his lungs, searing, aching in his chest and he shakes his head. "No. The universe operates as it will." He sounds like some sort of weird monk but Savage remembers how weird Professor Kenobi was back when Obi-Wan still lived in the neighborhood. "I'm meant to be here."

"Do you have anyone?" Savage asks, the question feeling like broken glass grinding out of him, he tries to imagine another Alpha in his place and he feels a rush of irrational rage. "Do you have an Alpha?" His second question is harder and Obi-Wan's eyes narrow.

"And what if I do?" He asks, knowing exactly what he's asking for, teasing an Alpha like this, on the cusp of heat, body tingling with excitement and the preflood of hormones. He's been walking for half an hour in the rain, and yet now he's warm, warmer than he has any right to be. "What if I have someone?" He pushes himself up off the couch and takes three. very. precise, steps until he's standing right in front of Savage. "What if I'm just using your knot until I can get back to theirs?"

God he wants this. He wants the violence tangled in Savage's muscles and the anger in his eyes and the rage in his hands. He wants the fucking storm that's raging outside to be raging inside. He wants that terror of being pushed to your limit so hard and so fast that you can't do anything but hold on and scream against the merciless winds that don't even care that you're screaming.

"Obi-Wan." Savage's voice is low, guttural, almost a growl and Obi-Wan feels electricity rocket up his spine. 

"Yes?" It's both a question and consent in one and Obi-Wan locks eyes with Savage. They both know what's about to happen, locked in a tradition that goes bone deep.

"Run."

XxX XxX


End file.
